


3:47 a.m

by nothingventurred (nothingventured)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, F/M, Mpreg, Omegaverse, alpha!Anthea, omega!croft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingventured/pseuds/nothingventurred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft texts Anthea at three in the morning, making a demand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Anthea. M_

The text from her boss slash lover (well, she wasn't really sure what they were, actually) caused Anthea’s phone to vibrate and light up on her nightstand, and the alpha rolled over and groaned, reaching behind herself to scratch her back as she opened her eyes.

Through heavy lids and a blurry perspective, she saw the clock on her dresser read 3:47 a.m. She groaned again and scrubbed a hand over her face, her long fingers coming into contact with the mess of dark brown hair she’d not bothered to brush when she flopped into bed the night before, still wearing her work clothes. Mycroft had driven her mad all day, bouncing between shouting at her and practically sobbing and begging for her forgiveness for his behaviour.

She picked up the phone and rubbed her left eye (which was still caked with the makeup she hadn’t removed yet), then unlocked it and began to type.

 _What’s wrong? -A_ she texted back, yawning. She set the phone down next to her pillow and lay her head down on the soft fabric. She’d nearly drifted back off to sleep when the screen lit up again. 

_Are you awake? M_

_No. I’m texting you from in your dreams and my nightmares. -A_

_I’m kidding. What’s up? -A_

She sighed; since Mycroft had become pregnant (which, she admitted, was her fault as much as it was his), he’d become utterly impossible to tolerate at times. She knew it wasn’t his fault, his hormones were going crazy, after all, but it didn’t make the worsening tantrums and constant berating any better. Anthea half-expected Mycroft to fire her several times, considering how upset he’d gotten with her the last time she’d accidentally ignored one of his moods. She shuddered to think about it, and rubbed both her hands over her forearms. Her fingernail snagged on a loose thread on her suitjacket, and she scowled before quickly unbuttoning the garment and tossing it aside. Wondering whether or not she’d need to get up and put on clothes soon anyway, she removed the rest of her clothing and tossed it aside, flopping back down onto the bed and throwing an arm over her eyes. Her phone lit up again, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

_Can you go get me something? M_

_Mycroft, it’s three in the morning. -A_

_I know. M_

_There is a pizza place open over near Baker Street. I’ll take a large one with pineapple and pepperoni. M_

The woman stared at her phone in disbelief, mouth agape. 

_You’re sending me out at quarter to four in the morning...for a pregnancy craving? -A_

_Problem? M_

Anthea didn’t reply for several minutes. 

_Not at all. Anything else you need? Just while I’m out? -A_

_Well...Ice cream would be quite nice. M_

_What flavour? -A_

_Cookie dough. M_

_And? -A_

_Peppermint. M_

_And? -A_

_...Chocolate. M_

_Okay. -A_

The alpha rolled out of bed, hissing as her feet came into contact with the icy floor. She vowed to get her awful floor carpeted within the week, and bit her lip as she padded across the room, tripping over her discarded shoes as she walked. She reached out, trying to find the light switch, the back of her hand slamming against the side of her dresser. 

“Oh fuck!” she exclaimed, shaking out her throbbing hand, hoping to take some of the sting away. She bit down on her lip again and let out an impressive string of swear words, thinking about how things might have been different had she not been around when Mycroft went into heat. 

She shook her head; no use thinking that now. Truthfully, she was happy about the fact that her boss (Lover? She didn’t know.) was pregnant, but it was quite testing at times, to say the least. Between the mood swings, sickness, and now cravings, she’d not had any time to herself for five months. But, it would only be another four months, and then they would have their son. She smiled at the thought of having another Mycroft around. Ginger curls, freckles, chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. Mycroft had insisted he wanted the child to look like her, but to be honest, Anthea wasn’t fond of the idea of him looking like her. She didn’t know why, but for some reason, having a son that looked just like Mycroft would be lovely. 

After getting dressed, leaving her flat and having a very testing conversation with the cashier at the takeaway place, she managed to get herself to Mycroft’s flat with no major accidents.

As she approached the Victorian-style building, she spotted one room’s light on. Which was where, she assumed, Mycroft was. She pulled her key out of her purse, balancing the pizza box on one arm and shoving the key into the lock with the other. She managed to get the door open and get inside, no thanks to the omega currently inside, and closed the door behind her. 

“Mycroft?” she called softly, glancing around the hallway. “Love?”

When she didn’t receive a reply, she set the box down on Mycroft’s coffee table and slipped off her shoes, peering around the room. “Mycroft?”

“Anthea?” the noticeably pregnant omega stepped out from inside the kitchen, a bag of crisps in one hand, the other behind his back, massaging his lower spine, which was most likely sore, judging by his stance. “You have my food?”

“Yes, yes,” she murmured, smiling weakly at the omega, “Here, I made sure it stayed hot.”

Mycroft smiled at her, carefully leaning down to pick up the box and open it. “And the ice cream?”

Anthea froze; oh _shit_.

“Oh...um...”

“You forgot it.” Mycroft’s face fell, and Anthea silently prayed for the floor to swallow her up right there. “I did, I’m sorry. I’ll go get it right now, one moment. You have your...breakfast, I suppose, and I’ll run and get some. Okay?”

“It’s fine,” Mycroft muttered, setting the box down again. “It’s probably best. I’m already fat.”

“No, love, we’ve been over this,” the brunette chided gently, “You’re not fat, you’re pregnant. You look beautiful.”

“I look fat.” Mycroft pouted. “I’ve several chins, and I look horrid.”

“I think you look beautiful,” she replied, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on Mycroft’s protruding stomach. “And besides, it’s just a bit of baby weight. It’ll all come off once he’s born and you start breastfeeding. I promise.”

Mycroft eyed her warily, raising an eyebrow. “You promise?”

“Yes, love,” she replied, giving the ginger a smile. “I promise. You’ll be so busy running after our baby that you’ll probably be lighter than you were before you got pregnant.”

“That would be nice,” Mycroft mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“Would I lie to you?” the woman smiled, “Come on, eat. Looks good.” It didn’t, actually, but she didn’t want to risk Mycroft throwing a full-on tantrum. 

Mycroft nodded and sat down, carefully cupping his belly as he lowered himself into his favourite chair and pulled a slice of the hot pizza from the box, bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite. “Good?” she questioned, unable to keep the nervous hope from her voice.

“Mm,” Mycroft hummed in an affirmative response, “Very. Thank you, my dear.”

“No problem,” she said, the tension seeping from her shoulders. “Ah...shall I get you anything else? Something to drink?”

“I’m fine, dear,” Mycroft replied as he reached for a second slice. “This is wonderful.”

“I made sure it was fresh for you,” she babbled on nervously; perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the stress, but she was suddenly excruciatingly nervous around her pregnant omega. What an odd phrase, she thought; _her_ omega. Well, he wasn’t technically hers, but she didn’t doubt that they would bond before the child was born, if all went well. 

“They forgot the pineapple the first time, so I sent it back and demanded they-”

“Anthea,” Mycroft interrupted, suspicion in his voice, “You’re very nervous.”

“Oh no, no,” she insisted, tapping her foot. “I’m just excited, I suppose.”

“You’re practically trembling.” he observed, “Something wrong?”

“I...” Anthea bit her tongue, debating whether or not telling Mycroft the actual source of her nervousness was a good idea. “It’s nothing, just didn’t sleep well.” she lied.

Mycroft stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever you say. I think I’m finished here, thank you.”

“No problem,” she replied, picking up the box and carrying it into Mycroft’s spotless kitchen. She set it down on the kitchen island and brushed her hair out of her eyes, clenching both fists to relieve her stress. The alpha took a deep breath, chiding herself internally; _”You’re an alpha,”_ she thought, _”You should be fine!”_. But she wasn’t, not really. Sure, she knew the basics of caring for Mycroft, and she’d learned how to care for pregnant omegas before, but when it came to a pregnant Mycroft, she could still be clueless at times.

She returned to the sitting room several minutes later, where she found a half-asleep Mycroft reclining back in his chair, his long eyelashes brushing against freckled cheeks that hadn’t yet been covered by concealer. She smiled at him and leaned down to gently kiss his forehead, the errant ginger curl in the middle of it tickling her nose. “Hey,” she said softly, “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

“M’ not tired,” Mycroft murmured, though he allowed himself to be helped up and led toward his bedroom, leaning on Anthea the entire way down the hall. 

“Sure you’re not,” she chuckled, carefully lowering the pyjama-clad government official down onto his bed and making sure he was covered with the duvet. “There. Have a good sleep, love,” she said softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Stay,” Mycroft murmured, blindly reaching for Anthea’s hand. 

Her eyes widened, and a small smile spread across her face. “Really?”

“Yes,” the pregnant omega murmured, “Please. The baby stops kicking when you’re around.”

“She/he’s been kicking?” the alpha asked as she slipped out of her street clothes and down to her t-shirt and pants. 

“Shifting, really,” Mycroft yawned, lazily throwing back one corner of the duvet to allow Anthea to slide under, which she did. The ginger rolled over so his back was to Anthea, and the brunette took it as an opportunity to do something Mycroft rarely allowed otherwise; cuddle.

She carefully slipped her arms around the ginger’s waist, both her hands resting on his swollen belly, her palms pressed against the taut skin hidden beneath the cotton fabric of Mycroft’s t-shirt. Anthea curled up close to Mycroft so she was pressed flush against him, her chin resting on his shoulder as she gently rubbed his baby bump, hoping to get at least a slight feeling of what it was like when the baby moved. A slight shift, and she gasped; it was incredible, there was no other word (that she could coherently think of, anyway) to describe it.

“Hello in there,” she murmured, waiting until Mycroft began snoring to speak. “I’m your...well, I’m not sure what I am to you, really.” she confessed, “I could be Mum, but that’s really Myc...I don’t know if I’d qualify as Mum anyway. I’m more of a sperm donor. Or something like that. I don’t know,” she sighed softly, “Maybe...Maybe I could be Mummy to you, you know? If Mycroft’ll let me.”

The government official heard every word the alpha currently spooned up behind him was saying, as he had become an expert at faking sleep. It was a valuable skill, even more so now. He listened as Anthea rattled off all her stresses, the worry she went through, and even her insecurities over the looming question of whether or not Mycroft would let her be involved in the child’s life, or even fire her. He listened until her voice began to fade, and the rubbing on his pregnant belly stilled; she’d fallen asleep, something she deserved, he noted.

He lay awake for several more minutes after that; his mind raced at a thousand kilometers a minute. The fact that Anthea even _wanted_ to stay shocked him completely. He always thought she’d be a typical unbonded alpha, leave him with the child to raise while she went on to do something else. 

He was kicking himself for that now, realising that Anthea would never do a thing like that to him. She adored him too much, and, if he was being honest with himself, he loved her quite a bit, too.

As he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, he made a note in his mental files to show her just how much.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Anthea awoke to the sun streaming through Mycroft's expensive curtains, her makeup-rimmed eyes struggling to open. She blinked for a moment after opening her eyes, trying to clear her blurred vision. She yawned, stretched, then sat up abruptly; Mycroft wasn’t there, of that she was absolutely certain. One couldn’t miss a heavily pregnant omega in their arms, that was for sure. 

 

“Myc?” she murmured, swinging her feet over the side of the bed, preparing for a cold floor that never came. Mycroft’s flat was always delightfully warm, unlike her own. “Mycroft?” 

 

She felt slightly uneasy, and bit her lip, slowly standing up and edging towards the door. She peered around the open door and raised an eyebrow, breathing out a sigh of relief upon laying eyes on the pregnant omega, who was cautiously making his way around his kitchen, humming to himself. She grinned at the sight of his belly, swollen and stretching out his favourite grey t-shirt that he’d refused to stop wearing since becoming pregnant. _”It will be ruined.”_ she’d chided. Mycroft, as usual, paid no heed to her. 

 

The brunette’s grin widened when the sound of the tune Mycroft was humming hit her ears. “Mm, didn’t take you for a Britney Spears fan,” she laughed, pushing open the door and striding towards her boss. Mycroft looked up, giving her a mock-annoyed look. “You simply have terrible taste in music,” he replied, “After all, you do play that drivel constantly while you’re working. It’s only natural I would pick up a tune or two.”

 

“Mhm. That’s your story, and you’re sticking with it, huh?” she chuckled, sidling up next to him and giving him a peck on the cheek. He seemed to be in a good mood today, she noticed; nothing like the aggravated, easily-upset omega she’d seen the previous day. “What’re you doing?”

 

“Cooking breakfast, obviously,” Mycroft replied, cracking two eggs into a bowl before tossing the shells into the bin. “What are you doing?”

 

“Watching you cook breakfast and feeling very annoyed at myself for letting you do so,” she replied, taking the bowl from him and giving his belly a pat. “You shouldn’t be running ‘round so much. Go on, rest for a bit.” 

 

“Anthea, I am pregnant, not an invalid,” Mycroft rolled his eyes, “I am fine.”

 

“Yes, but I’d like you to go sit down,” she said gently, “You’re free to remain standing if you wish, but I think you’d be more comfortable that way.” Mycroft huffed, knowing deep down that his PA was right (his back _was_ bothering him, after all...), then turned and carefully sat down in one of the chairs around the table, keeping a hand under his stomach to steady himself. “You do realise that I was supposed to be cooking for you,” he remarked as he watched Anthea move around the small kitchen. “You quite often insist on doing everything for me, more so now that I’m carrying your-” He didn’t finish, instead dropping his eyes down to look at his belly. He knew he was carrying a fetus that would, in four months, be his baby, but it all still seemed very far off. Well, it had seemed far off in the first place, and he’d remained perpetually confused about the whole matter ever since the heat that had caused him to become pregnant.

 

Actually, he could remember it perfectly.

 

It had been incredibly cold that day, with high winds and snow. So much snow. Mycroft hadn’t noticed his body temperature changing because of the snow; or at least, that’s what he told himself.

 

He’d gone into work, as usual, said hello to a few of his employees, had a quick chat with a diplomat that was having a crisis, and sat down at his desk, just like always. He’d missed Anthea that day, but he assumed she was off doing paperwork, which was normal for her. He still didn’t understand how she managed to get there before him every morning, and leave after. When did the woman sleep, he wondered. Missing Anthea that morning was the first in a series of events that, ultimately, led up to Anthea finding Mycroft sweating, biting at his lip, and desperate for an alpha. 

 

“Mycroft!” she said, kneeling down in front of the omega, the heat coming off his body causing her own heat to trigger. Her eyes widened, and she tried to back away, she really did, but her instincts told her to stay near Mycroft. “You’re...You’re in heat,” she swallowed, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “Do you need me to call for one of your omega drivers? I can get you home to your-”

 

“No,” Mycroft replied, biting at his lip as he slipped off his jacket (Christ, it was so bloody hot), “Just...I don’t know. I need an alpha.” 

 

Anthea swallowed. “Mycroft, I’m unsure if this is a good idea. Your present state, you could be taken advantage of. At the very least, let me get you a toy or-”

 

“Anthea!” Mycroft exclaimed through gritted teeth, “You are misunderstanding. I. Need. An alpha. Now.”

 

“I’ll see if I can find someone who’s-”

 

“No time, god,” the ginger moaned, “My god, just...I need one. You are one. Help me.”

 

Her eyes widened. “Mycroft, I can’t, I’m your-”

 

“You’re fired,” he breathed, “Now, knot me.”

 

Her stomach clenched, and she felt arousal pooling in the pit of her stomach, feeling her own temperature rising, along with her cock twitching with definite interest. “I can’t, Mycroft, we’re in the office.” she pleaded weakly, though she knew it was only a battle now, a battle between the both of them and their desperate instincts and raging hormones, and they both knew who would win.

 

“Anthea,” Mycroft begged, standing up and clenching the side of the desk, bending over it slightly to relieve some of the heat and wetness currently saturating his trousers. “Please. I need you.”

 

The scent of the fluid coming from the omega hit Anthea in waves, crashing down over her in waves of heat. “I- Okay,” she breathed, “Okay, okay.” She knew it was most likely a terrible idea, considering the fact that they’d worked together nearly twelve years, and that she was his PA, _and_ that he was a high-ranking politician, but at that moment, nothing mattered except for the arousal and heat currently threatening to drown them both. 

 

Anthea took a breath and stood up on shaky legs, keeping her high heels on for the sake of making her at least a bit taller than the government official, especially in the position they were currently in. She stood behind Mycroft, reached around and began to unbuckle and unzip his trousers, her hands trembling with nervousness, excitement, and desperation. She managed to tug the expensive (and now ruined) trousers down around Mycroft’s knees, allowing more of his scent to escape. She was nearly knocked over by the instinctual hunger breathing in Mycroft’s scent awakened, and dropped back down to her knees, desperate for more of it. She tugged down the pants he was wearing, which were currently half-soaked with the fluid escaping from him, and bit back a loud moan, praying no one outside the door could hear them.

 

Wait, was the door locked? Was it even _closed_? Oh, fuck it, she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she had a ready, willing, achingly wet and aroused omega in front of her, desperate to be knotted and bred. She fought back another moan as she pulled her hair back and desperately pushed her face into the omega’s arse, spreading his cheeks and lapping desperately at the fluid leaking from him, the scent nearly enough to overpower her. 

 

Mycroft, ever the oblivious one (though that could be blamed on his heat, among other things), didn’t notice Anthea’s actions until he felt a warm, wet, soft tongue pressing against his entrance, eliciting a loud moan from him. “Oh, Anthea,” he murmured, spreading his legs as far as they would go to give the brunette better access to him, “Please... _Please_!”

 

“Impatient,” she murmured against the hot skin under her lips, “Ever impatient, that’s what you are.” She was hardly aware of what she was saying anymore, as the arousal was clouding her mind. 

 

Mycroft turned, biting his lip, feeling the world spinning around him. “Anthea,” he begged, “For god’s sake, please. _Please_.”

 

“Please what?” she breathed, biting at the sensitive, freckled skin of Mycroft’s arse.

 

“Please,” he whispered, “Fuck me. Knot me. Please.”

 

Anthea nearly doubled over with the strength of the arousal in the pit of her stomach, making her toes curl, and nodded, standing up slowly. “That’s better,” she said, her voice becoming low and gravelly with the hormones currently pulsing throughout her body. She reached down to unzip her own trousers, pushing her pants aside and letting her arousal spring free, leaning down to bite at Mycroft’s neck. “Is this what you want?” she murmured, pressing flush against him. “Hot, wet little omega? Is this what you need?”

 

“Oh, god, yes,” Mycroft whimpered, “Please.”

 

Taking this as permission to continue, Anthea braced her feet on the carpeted floor, spread Mycroft’s legs a bit further, and pushed into him, letting out a loud half-moan, half-yell as his tightness engulfed her, the heat radiating from his body causing them both to begin sweating bullets. “Good god,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss at the writing omega’s neck, “You are...Christ....”

 

“Please,” Mycroft begged, “It’s so hot, please.” It was incredibly hot; hot, sticky, and unbelieveably exciting. He’d fancied his alpha assistant for awhile, but he’d pegged it as nothing more than a passing interest. Now, however, it was incredibly real. Real, and raw, and exciting. Not to mention convenient, as he felt he might pass out were his needs not taken care of at that moment. “Please.”

 

“Whatever you say,” she bit down on her lip, grabbed Mycroft’s bare hips, and set a steady pace, burying her nose in the omega’s neck, where his scent was the strongest. Well, the strongest place she wasn’t currently thrusting into, anyway. “Oh, god...You’re so wet, Mycroft...So good..”

 

Mycroft let out a loud mewl, becoming more and more desperate as his own erection was left unattended to. Anthea noticed his discomfort and immediately reached around to grab it, stroking in time with her thrusts. The alpha was both rough and tender with the omega, making sure he was comfortable but also speeding up her thrusts, desperate to reach her own climax so Mycroft could reach his. 

 

“Please,” the ginger moaned, gripping the opposite side of the desk and pushing back against Anthea. “Please, god, please!”

 

“Oh, Mycroft...” Anthea threw her head back, consciously avoiding Mycroft’s neck for fear of biting him, and gasped, her body clenching involuntarily several times as she came, feeling herself expand inside the omega, who reached his own climax seconds later, calling out her name. 

 

The two of them collapsed in a heap on the desk, the previously unbearable heat beginning to seep from their bodies, and Anthea reached up a hand to brush her hair from her face. “Good god,” she breathed after several minutes. “Mycroft...”

 

“Anthea,” the omega said softly, still pressing back against the alpha. “My god...” “Yeah,” Anthea chuckled, pressing her forehead in-between Mycroft’s shoulder blades, her skin sticking to the damp fabric he hadn’t bothered to discard. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yes,” Mycroft replied, trying to stand, then wincing and falling back against the desk. “What the-”

 

“You told me to knot you,” Anthea said uneasily, “So I did.”

 

“Of course. Silly me,” Mycroft murmured, closing his eyes and sighing. “This is very...awkward.”

 

“A bit,” the brunette chuckled, “Come on, we’ll sit and talk, yeah? Get you more comfortable.” She took hold of Mycroft’s hips again and guided them back so she was seated in Mycroft’s chair, the ginger in her lap. “Shh,” she stroked his back gently, her eyelids becoming heavy with the after-effects of the sex. “Shut your eyes.”

 

Mycroft did as he was told, letting out a slow breath and relaxing against Anthea, feeling her shrinking a bit as time passed, and eventually he was able to extract himself from her lap, grimacing at the slight pain he was in. “Well...Thank you.” he said awkwardly, biting his lip and tugging his still damp trousers and pants back up, flushing as he buttoned and zipped them. 

 

Anthea looked down at herself and chuckled, then tucked herself back into her own trousers and pants before zipping up and smoothing down her jacket, grinning at the government official. “Thank you,” she chuckled, “This won’t affect our work, I hope?”

 

“Not on my end,” Mycroft replied, though for some reason it pained him slightly to do so. “This, we will leave here. Understood?”

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Anthea grinned, “I’ll be in my office, alright? Call me if you need anything. Word of advice, you might want to have a nap.” Mycroft nodded, and Anthea stood up and left, her shoes thumping unsteadily against the floor. 

 

Not too long after that, Mycroft had discovered he was pregnant after several days of morning sickness and mood swings. With no doubt in his mind who had impregnated him, he’d had to confront Anthea. She’d reacted neutrally, but he saw through the facade she put up. He’d seen the nervousness, most likely at his initial reaction of anger and panic, he’d seen the underlying excitement in her eyes at the prospect of having an omega carry her child, and he’d seen the bitter disappointment she’d tried to hide when he talked about having an abortion. She’d been outwardly supportive of course, but he could tell she was incredibly saddened by his idea.

 

After seeing her like that, Mycroft began to ponder if, in fact, it was a good idea for him to carry the child. The Holmes lineage did need an heir, after all, and Sherlock certainly wasn’t going to provide one anytime soon, so the task fell to him. Or, at least that’s how Mummy Holmes felt. And, admittedly, Mycroft wasn’t completely put off at the prospect of having a child. Though, he was wary of the entire child-rearing business in itself, as the last child he’d raised wound up a drug-addicted sociopath who hated him, so he was (understandably) not eager to repeat that.

 

He’d relayed his concerns to Anthea, and she’d responded in a way he expected; positive comments about his child-rearing skills, telling him she’d support any choice he made, etc. He found it mildly predictable, to be honest, but it was better than her turning into a typical alpha over the pregnancy, which was a relief. Eventually, he’d come to the decision to carry the pregnancy to term and raise the child, graciously accepting Anthea’s offer to aid him if he so chose. 

 

Soon, their usually businesslike but playful interactions became more tender, more open, and eventually, slightly more romantic, with Anthea playing the typical protective yet comforting and sensitive role most alphas shied away from. For that, Mycroft was incredibly grateful.

 

“Mycroft?”

 

Anthea’s voice shook him from his memory, and he blinked, staring up at the brunette. “I’ve been talking to you for nearly ten minutes. Or, talking _at_ you I should say. Baby got you distracted?” she questioned, setting a plate of eggs in front of the ginger and giving him a pat on the cheek. 

“I- Yes,” he lied, “She/he's been shifting around a bit lately, and I suppose I got distracted.”

 

She smiled at the omega and nodded, sitting down to eat her own breakfast. “Oh, your next ultrasound appointment is coming up soon,” the alpha said casually, “Do you want me to take you?”

 

“In other words, would I mind if you tagged along to see how our child is developing?” Mycroft smirked, “Of course not. It would be nice if you came, actually.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really,” Mycroft replied, smiling as they ate. “It will be...nice.”

 

“Yeah?” Anthea couldn’t hide her smile. “I’m glad. Well, I’m glad you think so, anyway. I mean-”

 

“I know,” the ginger chuckled. “It will be nice, I think.”

 

 _”I hope so.”_ Anthea thought to herself as they finished eating. _”I really, really hope so.”_


	3. Chapter 3

The date of Mycroft's ultrasound appointment was quickly approaching, and Anthea was understandably a little nervous. She was still unsure just how involved she was supposed to be, as Mycroft had been sending mixed signals for months. One day, he didn’t want her to leave his side, and the next she was quite sure he’d fire her if she didn’t do exactly as he demanded. It was probably the hormones, she knew, but part of her couldn’t help but wonder how he really felt about her, even after they’d spent the night together.

 

She’d gotten better at predicting Mycroft’s moods, and had done well to prevent his infamous tantrums whenever she could, simply by observing his behaviour and adjusting hers accordingly. It was a lot of work, but seeing him happy (and preventing his outbursts during work hours) made it worth it.  
Honestly, the date of the appointment snuck up on her, as she was excruciatingly busy with matters of state, as usual, and time seemed to fly by. Before she knew it, Mycroft was knocking on her office door, an amused expression on his face. “Have you changed your mind, my dear?”

 

“What?” Anthea looked up from her paperwork, her pen held tightly between her teeth.

 

Mycroft reached his hand forward to smooth his recently-tailored waistcoat over his belly, giving it a pat and raising his eyebrow. “You did wish to attend my appointment, yes? I hope you haven’t changed your mind.”

 

“Oh! Oh, of course not,” the brunette muttered, jumping up from her desk and sending several files crashing to the floor. She sighed loudly, blowing a strand of hair from her forehead; she wasn’t usually this clumsy (she blamed her alpha hormones, just a little), but being around Mycroft while trying not to ruin his mood was exhausting. “I’m so sorry, I got wrapped up-”

 

“In the Iraq crisis, I know,” Mycroft replied, not phased. “I can go on my own...”

 

“No! No, it’s fine, I’ll hurry,” she replied, nearly tripping over her own feet, though the scent of her calm omega soothed her stress a bit. Well, not _her_ omega...Oh, who was she kidding? She considered Mycroft her omega, as illogical as she knew it was. They weren’t bonded, nor were they romantically involved other than the mixed signals and odd touches she and Mycroft had shared since he’d become pregnant. Still, she felt a fierce sense of loyalty towards the nearly six-month pregnant omega, and wanted to protect him even more so than usual. Of course, she always wanted to protect Mycroft, but now it was more of an instinctual need than an emotional one. He was carrying her child, and she needed to make sure nothing harmed either of them. She had to be sure of it.

 

Mycroft smirked at the flustered alpha. “I take it you are nervous at seeing the child for the first time?”

 

“Um...A little,” Anthea admitted, defeated. “Everything’s making me nervous, actually. Must be the hormonal changes.”

 

“Hm..Perhaps,” Mycroft replied, tightening his grip on the handle of his umbrella. “Come, we’ll be late.”

 

“A Holmes is never late, he arrives precisely when he intends to,” Anthea rattled off without thinking; one of the many phrases Mycroft had used for his tardiness to both meetings with her and, sometimes, to work, if he was awake late the night before. She hated it when he was awake late, especially if it was work-related; it always messed with his system. The government official had an ironclad will, and could get up even after only a few minutes of sleep if he really wanted to, but she knew it wasn’t healthy for him.

 

Mycroft chuckled at Anthea’s response, swinging his umbrella back and forth. “I’ve trained you well.” he remarked.

 

“Hush,” Anthea replied, grateful that perhaps even a bit of their usual banter could resume. She never realised how much she would miss it until it stopped.  
The ginger smiled back at her and shook his head. “Never,” he said, reaching out to take Anthea’s arm as she edged past him. Anthea turned, smiled, and gave Mycroft’s ever-growing belly a quick rub, then led the ginger out to one of their cars, giving the driver a polite smile. She helped Mycroft into the car, being careful not to jostle him too much, and slid inside herself minutes later, shutting the door behind herself and ordering the driver to take them down to Mycroft’s doctor’s office.

 

The ride there was quiet and uneventful, with a few breaks in the silence to discuss foreign events and the latest scandals brought to light about Mycroft’s better-known colleagues, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Anthea began to relax around Mycroft again.

**  
In what seemed like no time, they were in front of a large, brick building which housed the offices of Mycroft’s doctors, and Anthea began to feel slight anxiety creeping back into her; they were _here_ , she was going to see the baby for the first time, she’d get to see Mycroft’s face when he saw it.  
It. She still didn’t know the gender. She wondered briefly if Mycroft knew and had elected not to tell her; it honestly wouldn’t surprise her if he had done that, though that didn’t mean it wouldn’t sting a bit. If she was being completely honest with herself, she found herself getting more emotional as Mycroft’s pregnancy went on, something she attributed to her alpha hormones. Protectiveness and aggression towards other alphas was typical behaviour, and she’d begun experiencing that, though she’d been able to restrain herself so far. Emotional attachment to the pregnant omega was also typical, but not to the extent Anthea currently felt (and tried to deny).

 

"Well, come on then," she said, forcing herself to sound chipper for Mycroft's sake, if not her own. "Exciting, yeah?"

 

"Mm," Mycroft hummed in agreement as they walked in, giving the receptionist a nod. "Not as exciting after the first time, but I suppose."

 

"Ah, you're right," the woman admitted, gesturing for Mycroft to sit down in a chair. The ginger went with the motion, letting out a soft grunt as he sat, his cheeks flushing pink. Anthea couldn't suppress a small smile, and Mycroft scowled. "I'm happy my impairment amuses you."

 

"Oh, hush," she chuckled, sitting down next to him and giving his knee a pat. "It's cute."

 

"It is not 'cute'." Mycroft grumbled. "How would you like it if you were unable to sit down without letting out the most god-awful noises?"

 

"They're not awful," the woman soothed, feeling much more in her element. "They're barely noticeable. I only notice because we're so close together."  
Mycroft 'hmphed' and said nothing else until one of the many nurses staffing the office called his name. "Holmes?"

 

"That would be us, yes." Mycroft stood up slowly, bracing his hands on the sides of the chair as he stood, Anthea slipping a supportive arm behind his back to keep him upright. The nurse raised his eyebrow, but said nothing; to say that alpha female and omega male couples were rare would be an understatement. Anthea had never understood why, but she knew that the fact she didn't wind up a beta or omega was a rarity in itself. She'd often been teased about her status when she attended school, and she absolutely despised both it and the looks she got whenever she dated a male omega. Mycroft, having kept his status hidden up until he became pregnant with Anthea's child, had not suffered the same fate, though now he had to endure the odd looks and whispers as well.

 

Only after the two were comfortably settled in the room, Mycroft lying back comfortably on an exam table, his long legs dangling on either side, and the nurse had finished the initial exam and gone did Anthea dare to reach over and place her hand over Mycroft's, excitement washing over her. Mycroft raised an amused eyebrow. "Excited?" he remarked, more of a statement than a question.

 

The brunette smiled, and nodded. "Well, yeah," she admitted, unable to keep the grin from her face. "We're going to see the baby for the first time. Well, I am."

 

Mycroft gave a nod, then let out a breath and relaxed against the table. "I didn't think you would be this excited."

 

"Are you kidding?" the woman smiled, "That's our baby in there, Myc." She patted the government official's stomach for emphasis, figuring any boundaries they'd had before had been shattered when she'd woken up spooning him. "And I'm going to get to see him or her for the first time. 'Course I'm excited."

 

The ginger gave a small smile, and nodded again. "I suppose you do have cause to be excited," he murmured, "And I do as well, as I've decided to find out the sex. I wasn't going to before, but I am far too curious, as you already know."

 

Anthea felt almost guilty about how relieved she was that Mycroft had decided not to know the sex until now. For some reason she didn't understand, it made things better. "Good," she replied, ignoring her own inner thoughts. "What are you hoping for, dear?"

 

"I'm unsure, honestly," Mycroft sighed, "I think I would get along splendidly with a little girl, but either one would be fine, so long as it's healthy."

 

"Agreed." Anthea nodded, letting her gaze travel to Mycroft's protruding belly, a smile appearing on her lips. "What are you staring at?" Mycroft huffed. "I am well-aware how fat I am, thank you very much."

 

"You meant 'pregnant' dear," the alpha chuckled, abruptly turning her head as the door opened. A young man, no more than thirty, younger than both Mycroft and Anthea, stepped into the room, smiling. "Hello," the higher-pitched voice greeted them. "I'm Doctor Allister, you must be Mycroft Holmes." His nose twitched, subtly, and he turned to the alpha female. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

 

"I didn't give it to you," Anthea laughed, "I'm kidding. I'm Anthea, Mycroft's... the parent of the child." She flushed; it was embarrassing, not knowing what to call herself other than Mycroft's sperm donor.

 

The doctor didn't react, bless him, and Anthea gave him a grateful look; she could smell he was a beta, and instantly felt more at ease. Even though they weren't bonded, she still thought of him as her omega. She had to untrain herself, she realised; it wasn't fair to either her or Mycroft, to be so protective over him. He wasn't hers, and she had to remind herself of that constantly.

 

"Well, if you'd like to be here for the exam, that's fine. If it's alright with Mr. Holmes, that is. May I call you Mycroft?" Mycroft nodded, worrying his lip between his teeth as the doctor approached, flipping through his file before pulling the ultrasound machine over towards them.

 

"That's fine," Mycroft murmured, "On both counts."

 

Several long, boring minutes later, the wand was passing over Mycroft's protruding belly, and the doctor was looking at a screen which Anthea couldn't see, but was desperate to. After a few minutes, the man grinned and looked at Mycroft. "Everything looks okay," he said, "Would you like to know the sex?"

 

"Yes, please," Mycroft replied, flushed both from being so exposed and the nervousness he always felt when he had an appointment with his doctor. He unconsciously flexed his fingers, and let out a soft noise of surprise as he felt long, slender fingers slip into it. He turned and looked at Anthea, who was staring intently at the screen as the doctor turned it around, eager to see the fetus.

 

Mycroft squeezed her hand gently and turned to look at the screen as well, watching as the doctor pointed at it. "It's a girl," he smiled, gently tapping one part of the screen. "Congratulations."

 

"A...girl?" Anthea murmured, her eyes widening at the sight of the baby, a smile breaking out on her face. "Wow...Look at that, Myc, a little girl!"

 

"Indeed," Mycroft murmured, obviously in a state of awe. It seemed much more real now than it had before.

 

"Congratulations," the man repeated, "Would you like a DVD of the exam?"

 

"Oh, please," Anthea said excitedly, "And, if you do pictures, could we maybe have one?"

 

"Of course." Allister smiled, checking Mycroft over once more before putting away the machine, handing Mycroft a cloth to wipe the gel from his belly. "I'll be back soon, you just sit tight."

 

The door closed behind the man, and Anthea realised, after several moments, that her hand was still entwined with Mycroft's. She turned her head to look at him, and the smile that had never left her face widened. "A little girl," she murmured, giving his hand a squeeze. "That's...amazing, Mycroft. We _made_ that little girl."

 

"We did," Mycroft replied, a smile appearing on his face as well. In a surprisingly sentimental move, he guided Anthea's hand to his belly and let it rest there, both of them staring down at his taut, stretch-mark laden skin. "We did."


End file.
